


our phantoms forever

by inflomora, lochnessa (feyluke)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Vignette, WHAT IS GRAMMAR, it's a poetic CHOICE don't come after me, it's about the yearning, this doesnt fit the tone of shameless whatsoever but i’m at peace with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inflomora/pseuds/inflomora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/feyluke/pseuds/lochnessa
Summary: a character study of the coming out scene in s4e11 with a focus on what i perceive to be the moment mickey subconsciously decides he’s gonna marry that boy someday
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	our phantoms forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IanRightsOnly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IanRightsOnly/gifts).



> happy birthday to [fuckyoufrank](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyoufrank/pseuds/fuckyoufrank)!!! 
> 
> this is a collab with the amazingly talented [inflomora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inflomora/pseuds/inflomora) who drew [the artwork.](https://66.media.tumblr.com/bb39f57731eccf0d5f3f0d46948abd20/e64f9488715f73da-bb/s540x810/32fd7d5ad193338f5bb2d4adf32b2182dc42b035.jpg)  
> happy birthday jenna we love you SO fucking much ♥

  
  


  


it wasn't the realization of "i'm gonna marry this boy someday" dawning upon you suddenly in a moment of clarity in, say, the way his fingers curl at the base of your neck coupled with the glint in his eyes when he presses those fingertips into your vertebrae, or the way his other hand roughly pulling your hip to his feels like he’s guiding you home 

it’s not some sort of heart-stopping revelation that comes to you in a rush and you’re sure as fuck not making any declarations of love here; you’re not one to wax poetic and this isn’t a fucking love poem 

  


look, you can enjoy a dick, any dick, up your ass in the privacy of your own making, thank you very much, without everyone knowing your fucking business 

it doesn’t fucking matter until it very much does; you can fuck in the dark corners of your life but you can’t love there 

(and fuck, do you love him, only him) 

  


so, right, there are no wedding bells, not yet, but there _is_ a beginning: 

it’s the word _coward_ clawing down your spine, across your ribs, settling in comfortably alongside your sternum, curling up next to the fear that you can’t spew enough vitriol to conceal; the fear like acid bubbling and corroding through what you and he have grown together 

it’s this acute awareness of _you're under my skin_ (something to be thought but never said) and that you're keeping him there, under your skin, in your ribcage, festering among your own self-hatred, no room to breathe, to grow, to bloom, until you _make room_

it’s watching him put his jacket on, watching him leave, knowing he needs air to breathe (you need air to breathe) and, shit, what the hell can you do? 

  


(yelling “i just want everyone here to know i’m fucking gay” followed up with "are you happy?" seems like a good start and, well, that’s exactly what you do, with _yes, i am happy_ unfurling inside your chest in that moment of calm before all hell breaks loose) 

  


the beginning is this: 

it's the first step to reclaiming what you didn't realize was stolen from you; the very first small (huge) step to a future where you will look at him with full clarity (yes, _there_ is the moment of clarity) and know you don’t want anyone else, never have, and, shit, you’re gonna marry that man


End file.
